


The YouTuber and...well...The Other YouTuber

by ZeroToWeirdo



Series: Hartwin Meet-Cutes [9]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluffy, Foster Care, M/M, Meet-Cute, Orphanage, Orphans, YouTube, YouTubers - Freeform, don't as questions, hartwin meet-cute, just accept my love, just because
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:42:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8907676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroToWeirdo/pseuds/ZeroToWeirdo
Summary: One of them is a YouTuber, and well, so is the other. But running into each other is harder than you think, you know? Will their paths ever cross? Will they ever get their moment to 'zing'? Let's watch and see.





	1. Chapter 1

Roxy was freaking out. She would have been freaking out more if she remembered this moment was being documented in history by the phone she had left on the table, but she was too busy feeling her heart shattering irreparably at the sight of Daisy bawling her eyes out, touching her reddened bottom lip that she had managed to nick with a crayon when she had gotten too excited at one of Roxy’s ‘weird faces’ compilation. It would have been such a cute video to send to the Morton House chat group, too.

 

“It’s alright Daisy, love! Come on now…” she cooed, her voice shaking in anxiety. Could children die from crying too hard? Was that a thing? Like overheated computers with broken fans, would she just shut down? Oh my god, _she was turning blue!!!!_

Code red, code fucking red, where was Roxy’s phone?  

 

Why was Eggsy taking so long on that bloody jog? Would Lamaze breathing help? Would Roxy be put away for murder because she was unable to calm the three year old in front of her? Bloody hell, her life was flashing before her eyes.

 

She rushed to pick up Daisy and managed a bounce or two before Eggsy slid into the room in his jogging shoes, looking unperturbed as he sang and swayed along to the music blasting from his headphones, which hung loose about his neck.

 

“[Everybody wants you, everybody wants your love. I’d just like to make you mine all mine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IeqtAB1WgEw).” Eggsy’s sudden appearance seemed to have shocked Daisy into stuttering hiccups, which was definitely better than bawling, but Eggsy didn’t let up for one minute, breaking out his cheesy 80s dance moves as he kept singing.

 

“Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, Baby give it up. Give it up! Baby, give it up!”

 

By the end of the second riff of the chorus, which crescendo-ed in a horrible ‘cabbage patch’ ensemble, Roxy was sure Eggsy was right insane. Apparently, such insanity was enough to fascinate Daisy into staring wide-eyed, her left hand halfway into her mouth while her right curled around Roxy’s hair.

 

Roxy laughed in relief as Eggsy reached out and took the curious Daisy into his arms, swaying her around as the second verse came about, “Everybody sees you, everybody looks and stares. I’d just like to make you mine all mine.”

 

With the second chorus of nananana, he was dipping and spinning around, eliciting squeals of joy from the toddler. Roxy was content to laugh from the sidelines, sitting down on the nearby chair with bones lax from relief, until the song ended and Eggsy collapsed onto the ground with a grin, Daisy seated on his (very sweaty, after the jogging and the dancing) chest, laughing in delight.

 

“So, how was it, Rox?” he asked cheekily.

 

“She nicked her lip.” Roxy explained quickly.

 

“Is that right? Did my little flower get a booboo? Doesn’t hurt now, does it?” Eggsy asked, earning a quick shake of the head from Daisy. “There’s my flower. C’mon, time for a little lunch, yeah? Rox, mind getting her in her coat and boots? I gotta take a shower, won’t be two minutes.”

 

Roxy readily agreed, taking the now babbling child, with her face still covered in drying tears, and led her out in search of her outdoors-wear. It wasn’t till later that night when Roxy was about to leave that she noticed her phone on the table, the battery completely dead, that she remembered she had recorded the entire incident (and possibly Eggsy changing into his clothes after his shower, which she only considered looking at for 0.5 seconds before she realised how skeevy that would be).

 

After cutting (and deleting the later part which _she did not look at, alright?!_ ) she sent the video to Eggsy, who quickly uploaded it onto YouTube as a private video with all the Morton House members tagged in to see it, all twenty-some of who were quick to ooh and aah at their youngest member of the household, promising to bring countless gifts to Daisy on Christmas.

 

* * *

 

“Roxy, love, mind getting the mince pies out from the oven?” Olivia Morton asked, her poodle skirt swishing as she carried out her culinary witchcraft from one countertop to the other, the two youngest foster children watching in spellbound awe.

“On it.” Roxy announced, sending warning glances at the vultures roosting at the kitchen island, mouths watering at the mere thought of making away with a tray of Morton mince pies. Will and Steven were the worst when faced with temptation, multiplying each other’s mischievousness by proximity.

 

“Aren’t you all supposed to be helping Jamal and Eggsy with the tree?” Roxy asked knowingly. They looked at each other sheepishly, before Will piped up, saying “We just get in the way, idnit? Jamal can handle it.” Steven nodded in agreement, until Jamal poked his head into the kitchen and asked who wanted to put the star on the tree. Both kids were off like a shot, leaving Roxy to shake her head and chuckle, listening to the shrill laughter of younger children, the chatter of Jamal, Eggsy and the other older ‘children’, and of course the loud guffaw of her father, Robert Morton.

 

There was never a dull moment in the Morton House, not since Roxy was five and they had first opened their doors as a foster house for the nearby orphanage. Looking at them now, no one would guess that they only took the most troubled children and teens. No one would guess that Jamal had been involved in drug peddling before he had been handed to them at the age of 14. No one would guess that Will was well on his way to being a thieving hood-rat when he was sent to them at 7, nor Steven for that matter.

 

Eggsy…Eggsy had been the worst of them, car-jacking and drug pushing, breaking and entering, armed robbery, all of which was only considered ‘excusable’ because of the heaping piles of abuse laid on him by his negligent stepfather (the only thing he ever gave to Eggsy generously). It had been eye opening for Roxy, meeting Eggsy for the first time as they were both 15. It made her suddenly aware of how privileged she was, and how circumstances could fetter a child equally talented as herself to a position he could never defeat alone.

 

With the death of his mother and the incarceration of his stepfather, Eggsy had been sent to them an angry boy with a chip on his shoulder a mile high. After a short talk with Robert and Olivia, he demanded only one thing. They foster him and Daisy until he was legally emancipated and could adopt her as his own.

 

They had done that and more. The next few years had been a tug of war between Eggsy’s past and his potential, his rebellious attitude sometimes getting the better of him as they pushed him to complete his high school career and take up part time jobs in preparation for adulthood. After the years went by of Roxy pitting herself against Eggsy as a self-proclaimed arch rival, appealing to his competitive streak with every life challenge they faced, Eggsy was now one of their closest ‘brothers’ in the Morton House. He returned for dinner every Saturday with Daisy, talked about his various jobs at the Malls in London with Olivia, fixed up the house and laughed over a cold beer with Robert. He was, and always would be, Roxy’s brother.

 

Things had been going good over the past year of Eggsy’s life as well, as he turned 19 and began online business classes with the local Uni. He was fit to graduate with a diploma by the end of his 21st year, right when Daisy would be ready for kindergarten. Roxy had personally wanted Eggsy to take up something more along the lines of entertainment, since he was such a personality in real life, but ‘entertainment’ didn’t pay the bills. It was a pity, he had such a good voice, too.

 

She was reminded of such as she heard Jingle Bell Rock being belted from the living room, peaking in to see Eggsy singing away as the rest of the foster kids (some with kids of their own now) surrounding him. Georgia, who was one of the first foster kids to be taken in by Morton House, was filming with her phone while her husband cradled their 5 month old child nearby, humming along. He was putting on a right show, with tinsel wrapped around his neck like a boa and a broom in his hand like a mic stand.

 

Soon, everyone was clapping along. Even Olivia abandoned her kitchen witchcraft to watch Eggsy swing about the living room, first impersonating Elvis, then Eartha Kitt, then Shakira, ending in his own Eggsy-branded crooning. “You should quit your dayjob!” Jamal cheered once Eggsy’s voice had faded.

 

Eggsy laughed and shook his head, though his smile seemed a bit melancholy. “I’ll settle for open mic nights at the pub, thanks.” He joked, earning rounds of laughter. Roxy sighed and shook her head knowingly, her own glum thoughts banished as 11 year old Catherina ran into her legs demanding she do her hair because ‘Robert’s absolute rubbish’ and the festivities began.

 

* * *

 

Roxy would like to blame her actions on alcohol, but she knew that an odd sense of spite was what truly led her to doing what she did. She had been arguing (again) with Eggsy about how he shouldn’t be working in retail and should be pursuing his passion in performing arts. He had been adamant in her naivety, ending the argument with his usual ‘you wouldn’t understand what I go through’ shtick which left her grinding her teeth in rage. Didn’t get it, did she? Didn’t understand his trials, eh? Didn’t bloody well see what he went through, huh?

 

She had needed vindication. It was that drive for someone to prove her right, with the aid of said alcohol that had her sneaking Eggsy’s phone away and opening his YouTube profile. With determination, she selected four of his singing videos (including the one with crying Daisy, because his personality had shone so well in that, and Daisy was just so adorable) and made them public, adding a good 50 tags to each of them.

 

It wasn’t till later that night, as the alcohol faded from her system, that she truly realised what she had done, and it was clearly too late to change it now. She decided to tell Eggsy tomorrow. After all, what harm could one night do?

 

* * *

 

“Rox…”

“Yeah? What? I’m up…what?”

“Rox, my YouTube channel…”

“…Shit, I was going to tell you. I’m sorry, it was bloody petty of me, but I wanted to prove a point. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’ll be fine. Just privatise them back again-”

“Rox, listen…the Give It Up video…”

“What? Has it been copywrite flagged? God, do I have a copy still?”

“It’s gone viral.”

“…What?”

She rushed to her laptop and clicked onto YouTube, rushing to EggsyWeggsy to see the damage.

“One million views.…”

“……yeah…”

"Overnight."

"Yeah...and climbing..."

“Eggsy.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re gonna be on Ellen, mate.”

“With a name like EggsyWeggsy, I fucking hope not.”

 

Never let it be said that Eggsy was one to get what he hoped for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't bloody well know how this came about, but it did, and you will accept it. Also, if you don't know what [80s dancing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wiIXGR8NgKo) looks like, here you go. Enjoy :P


	2. Chapter 2

Harry could feel his inner demon beginning to manifest itself just watching Merlin vigorously stir what looked like pesto sauce in a pan.

 

“I can hear your murderous intent from here, Harry.”

“You’re cooking tomato sauce.”

“Yes, I’m making Spaghetti, as we agreed on.”

“No, you’re making tomato sauce.”

 

With a deep sigh, Merlin put his wooden spoon down and took a step back from the stove.

 

“Alright, then. We knew this would happen. You’re clearly itching to take over. I don’t know why we bother pretending you aren’t going to cook dinner every time we do this.”

“Don’t be testy, Merlin.”

“I’ll be testy as I want to be. We’re here to have a regular dinner with friends to watch a bloody football game, and you see fit to nit-pick and conquer my kitchen. You do this every time it’s at James’ house, or Arthur’s, or mine. You come earlier than everyone else and you stare at us until we relent and give you the kitchen.”

“You can’t deny I’m a better cook.”

“Not denying that. I’m just saying you’re a bloody kitchen terrorist. You click and tut the lot of us into giving you complete reign over the kitchen, we might as well make some ground rules right now. Either you let us have football nights exclusively at your place, or you let us live our damned lives and cook our damned food the way we damned well please.”

 

Harry didn’t look the least bit amused at Merlin’s spiel, followed shortly by Merlin leaving him in the kitchen to slice and dice a few more ingredients than water and pesto. Kitchen terrorist, indeed. It wasn’t his fault they were so inept at cooking.

 

It didn’t help in the slightest that James’ arrival was heralded by a loud “Not again, Hart.” When he realised Harry had once more usurped the kitchen.  

 

“I’m doing you lot a service. Lord knows how you managed to survive this long without food poisoning.” Harry bit back quickly, which was received with the usual groans and eye rolls. Arthur arrived and did little more than snort knowingly towards the kitchen, followed shortly by Tristan.

 

Merlin brought his renegotiated terms and conditions once more, receiving hoots of approval from the lot of them that either Harry hosted _all_ their dinners, or kept his grubby paws off their kitchens without accosting them with judgemental eyes and noises.

 

Harry, of course, didn’t want to host all the dinners. It would get overwhelming, having to clean up after all of them week after week. He had no choice, really, but to relent to their terms. He would not try to interrupt their cooking or sneer at their attempts to perform basic culinary tasks. He wouldn’t (god, it was hard to promise) _interfere._

The promise seemed to assuage everyone in the room, but bloody hell, it had made Harry’s skin crawl from the moment he had assented to the second he had laid his head to rest that night.

 

* * *

 

Harry’s fondest memories were of his father. They weren’t brilliantly touching, with laughter and running through fields of flowers chasing puppies while he taught him how to throw a ball. They were memories of quick raps on the knuckles when he wasn’t kneading the bread right, or short snorts that indicated he stir faster, or slower, or less or more.

 

His father had a tongue unlike any other, able to identify any and all ingredients in a dish with a single taste. He was picky, obviously, but under his strict tutelage, Harry found himself learning the art and beauty of a well-made meal.

 

“Everything has balance, Harry. Even the simplest dish.” He would tell him as he cooked and baked. Harry could hardly contest. Watching his father cook was more than just a science of precision, it was magic. Beauty and art in action. A series of unassuming steps that, when put together, led to one incredible outcome for all to enjoy.

 

He was never happier than those moments where he could learn to replicate his father’s magic, making food that tasted just as magical though unique to him.

 

It was moments that he found himself missing dreadfully.

 

He awoke the following Saturday morning with the soft but firm voice of his father in his ear and the warmth of the memory on his mind.

 

As he sat up a moment, staring at the wall opposite his bed, he realised he had never taught anyone the way his father had taught him. He was snarky and strict, yes, but he’d never once instructed another human being as to what he thought they should be doing. Rapping them on the knuckles, if you will, without telling them what they had done wrong.

 

He felt oddly chastised by the thought.

 

But then the indignity of being called a kitchen terrorist returned to him, and he felt more than a little miffed. He was _particular,_ and there was _nothing_ wrong with that.

 

If he had to play by their rules and abstain from interfering in their cooking, then he’d bloody well make sure they knew what they were doing wrong.

 

Slapping on a bathrobe over his pyjamas and running a hand through his hair, he grabbed his digital camera and headed for the kitchen. He had bought the camera for his holidays last year and hadn’t touched it since, its memory card cleared since then.

 

Balancing it on a chair and a pile of books, he hit record immediately, recording himself shuffling about the kitchen gathering items and placing them in the middle of his counter.

 

“Right.” He said, finally looking the camera in the lens with the various items in front of him. “Here’s how you make proper spaghetti, you heathens.”

 

And the magic began.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **trigger warning**
> 
> mild panic/anxiety attack

Eggsy has been having a rather shit day. He came home from a meeting with his University advisor feeling like a damned waste of space as the man told him he’d been slacking on his weekly quizzes. Later on, he'd totally zoned out when Jamal was talking about his plans for his final film assignments last semester, and he’d clearly been disappointed when he realised Eggsy hadn't heard a word he had said (and he was so excited too, Eggsy had felt like total shite) but one look at Eggsy's black under-eyes and his greasy mop hidden under an 'OBEY' cap, had him nodding knowingly.  
  
"You know, Eggsy, I can edit your vlogs for you. I'm faster than you anyways, would get that stuff done in 30 minutes." Jamal offered once more.

 

"That isn't fair, Jamal, you have your own shit to handle, I can't just hand you something that pays my damned bills."

 

"You could buy me a meal every lecture day, how about that?"

 

"Stop, I'll edit my own vlogs. I will. I told myself I would, and I will. I can handle it, honest, Daisy was just kicking up a bit of stink today. Didn't want to eat any of the fish fingers I made for her, and she was beggin for em just last week."

 

Jamal hummed in assent, though he still looked worried. "Honestly, this is getting a bit ridiculous. Don't they have a name for this? The..uh... _tu sais_...euh...the terrible something?”

 

“The terrible twos? Jamal, she’s four.”

 

“The terrible toddler days then. You know we're all willing to help if you need it." Jamal offered.

He nodded knowingly. "I know, mate. I promise, if it gets worse, I'll take you up on that offer. Lord knows an extra hour of sleep a night would be beautiful."

 

They said their goodbyes and Eggsy had returned to find his little girl bawling at the day care, a frazzled Miss Brown looking like she wanted to either break down crying herself or punt some furniture across the room. He gave a quick questioning look to her as Daisy ran into his arms and sobbed incoherently into his shoulder.

 

"She just isn't in a sharing mood today, I reckon." Miss Brown said in surrender, pointing to a confused looking toddler named Clint (who Daisy had proclaimed as her best friend yesterday) holding a Thomas the Train that had seen better days. Eggsy sighed deeply and stood up. "Thanks for handling her. See you around, Clint." he said, giving the concerned boy a quick rub on the head to alleviate any worry of being in trouble, before grabbing Daisy's little Barbie pink satchel and leaving.

 

Now he was home, his little girl sniffling in her sleep from her excessive crying, and he was just sitting there on the living room couch, staring into space. He felt like he couldn't move for a while, his head gone fuzzy, as part of him was silently reeling and the other was listing down the other things he had to do today.

 

_Take out the trash, clean the stove, cook lunch and pack dinner away for later, vlog a little, get started on that assignment, plan a cover of Adele, take out the trash, send some emails, give Daisy a bath, get her ready for bed, for the love of god take out the trash it is right there...you can see it...please move_

 

And God, he wanted to, but moving felt like an impossibility. For the love of God, why couldn't he move? It felt like he was straining against an invisible weight set over him, he'd push and push, then release with a defeated sigh, but the weight didn't get lighter and he just got more tired with every failed attempt to rise, more defeated.

 

_It's too hard, why can't I do it? I'm so tired, but I'm not fucking tired, I'm NOT, why can't I move, don't be stupid, you can do it, you're just not pushing hard enough, yes I am, no you're not everybody can take out the trash, everyone can stand up from their damned couch and just take out the fucking trash, everyone but you, you've done nothing today, nothing, it is right fucking there, they were right they were all fucking right-_

 

"Eggy."

 

He nearly jumped out of skin as Daisy stood before him in the bedraggled clothes she had gone to day-care in, her hair a wild mess. "Eggy, hunry." She stated quietly, picking at his jeans as if she wasn't sure if he wanted her there or not.

 

"Of course." he said quietly, standing up and looking around the living room, suddenly feeling light...but too light. Like at any moment, he'd trip and fall over, his body unused to being so ungrounded. "I...yes, of course. French fries?" he asked. She beamed at him, completely unaware. He smiled weakly back, picking her up, letting himself believe her weight was keeping his feet planted on the floor. "Let's go make some then."  
  
After going through his chores like his body was a leaded weight, here he was, sitting at his laptop at 1 in the morning, ready to upload his vlog...except he wasn't. It had shown him feeding Daisy in the morning, her bawling and fussing, him barely keeping his smile together for the camera as he tried to wave off his frustration. He felt like such a fraud ending it with a 'goodnight' because it _wasn't,_ it simply _wasn't_ a good night and he wanted to cry, and even if he wanted to lie and prove everyone who criticised him wrong, and prove everyone who supported him right, he could not lie about this.

 

So he pulled up his phone and began filming.

 

"Lord, I look a right mess. Get it together. Alright, so, I ended the vlog, but now I've opened it again. Sorry about that. I just...there's a lot...a lot of things I need to talk about right now. With you. You all. I'm many things bad things, I know this. I'm a person with a juvenile record, I've dropped out of schools, I know what breaking someone's nose feels like. I've atoned for it, but I've never lied about it, I never lie about it. I can't lie about this....my eyes just keep-" He paused to rub his eyes on the sleeve of his large, ratty jumper.

 

"I've had a bad day. I've had a very bad day. It would have been ok if the rest of this week hadn't been so bloody frustrating, but today just...I can't lie about that. I'm holding it together, I'll have a good cry, get a warm shower and I'll be better, but right now I just feel so shit. It's so _easy_ when you keep failing, to think you're going to fail forever. I was alright with that, I'd given up on even trying, before Dais was born. But now, failing just terrifies me."

 

He snorted a little, running his hand through his grimy hair and wincing. He really needed to take a shower. "I don't even know if this counts as failing?" he pondered aloud, no longer looking at his phone, just sort of staring blankly into the middle distance. "But it feels like failure." he added, a small, defeated smile on his face. He felt so tired. But they had to know. They deserved more than a mask, especially those that looked to him as an example (he didn't know why, but they did).

 

"Daisy, she...she's gotten so fussy with her food and her clothes and her hair...she cries s-so often nowadays, and it breaks my heart every time, but it's the most ridiculous things, and I can't understand it. I don't understand what I've done wrong, what I've screwed up. Jamal calls it the Terrible Twos, except spanning the toddler years, but is it that? Georgia's kid was an angel at four, is it me? And of course, all of this, it just got me thinking about all those random comments - and yes, I read them, I don't reply or delete them, but I read them - and those emails...about...about how I should have left her with the Mortons, let her get a _real_ family upbringing with a mother and a father, telling me how I'm unfit, how I'm violent, I'm unprepared and negligent and young and uneducated and...and selfish. What the hell am I getting at?"

 

He laughed at himself, once more scrubbing his eyes, a little more gently this time.

 

"Maybe I am selfish, maybe having a mother and a father to raise her instead of a brother who vlogs and sings for a living, while taking twice as long as normal to finish a bloody business degree, would have been better for her."

 

Eggsy swallowed hard and considered stating his worst fears here and now. Did they need to know? Should he bite the bullet? Should he...? To Hell with it.

 

"Sometimes I think about my stepdad, about how he treated me. About my mom, and how she didn't make it any better. I think about that a lot, because...I'm not sure, some days. If I know _how_ to be a parent, because they never _showed_ me. I never _felt_ it. They were everything parents shouldn't be, and they expected me to be grateful for their failures as if their presence made up for it, as if it could have been worse. I saw good parenting, with the Mortons, but part of me wonders if it was like watching things on a screen. Eventually you turn off the TV or go home from the cinema, and you aren't a superhero like you watched, you aren't a genius like the character in the movie. You can't learn everything from just watching. But whenever I think like this, I...this is stupid, but bear with me. I remember something Bobby Singer said. Yes, Bobby Singer. Supernatural. Uncle Bobby. Man after my own heart. He...he said kids aren't supposed to be grateful, their supposed to eat your food and break your heart."

 

"Well, I'm not giving Daisy up. I don't know if I'll ever be enough, but DAMMIT I'm going to give her everything. Everything I have. Every free second, every good thought, every cent I earn, because I know no one, not _one person,_ could love her as much as I love her. She'll break my heart over and over and she'll eat my food (hopefully more of it than she does now to be honest) and I think...with a little patience and sacrifice, that may be enough. And with people around me to support me, who love me and love Dais too, I know we'll be alright. Maybe not tonight, but we will be alright. There will always be good days mixed in with the bad days, and vice versa." 

 

He sighed deeply and nodded. "Alright...that's...enough heart to heart for one night. I've got to call it quits." he lowered his phone for a moment, before bringing it back to his tired grin. "Oh, and Jamal, mate. I'm taking you up on that editing gig. Thanks."

 

***

 

Harry had been contemplating different ventures for his channel. His manager (yes, manager, because apparently he was a hot commodity that DivaTV wanted desperately, though for now a book was all they were discussing) had mentioned moving more into Greek food, but Harry wasn't particularly feeling it. He'd thought about fast meals for young adults on the go, he'd even stooped so low as to consider creating an 'Insta-worthy' playlist. He'd showered in scalding water that evening to rid himself of the shame. He wasn't sure what to do with himself, when he saw a video on his suggested list.

 

It was that vlogger that Merlin followed. Harry watched his vlogs sometimes, the little girl too adorable to not coo over (internally, of course) and the young man wasn't too hard on the eyes either. He'd seen his interview on Ellen about a year ago, about going viral for dancing with his sister and singing some 70s or 80s pop. He'd been incredibly shy back then, and had captured all of Youtube's hearts. Apparently, this particular vlog was trending at the moment.

 

Out of curiosity, Harry opened it. Eggsy had seemed strained throughout. The look of worry on his friend's face was palpable at the cafe, and his sister was being rather tiring as well, crying and throwing a fit in every other scene. When it ended with a cheery goodbye and a few minutes left on the video, Harry knew something was up.

 

Then the video came back on, and Eggsy just _poured_ himself out in front of the camera, about his frustrations with Daisy, his fears of inadequacy and failure. It ended on a more positive note, with Eggsy mentioning others helping him out in his time of need, and declaring his intention of never giving up. Harry scrolled down to the comment section, which was in a complete frenzy. Everyone was giving words of comfort and encouragement, some of commiseration, and some were desperately demanding how they could help.

 

And EggsyTr4sh was right. How could they help? They were just people on the other side of a screen. Hell, Harry was just someone on the other side of the screen. And he wanted to help, too. Desperation was not a good colour on the young man, and it hurt seeing someone so wonderfully honest and good suffering through life.  
 

Then it hit him.

 

_Kids aren't supposed to be grateful, their supposed to eat your food and break your heart._

 

He rushed to the kitchen, pulling out an assortment of ingredients, doing the math in his head and nearly knocking his camera off its tripod as he rushed by. He knew what his new series would be about. He couldn’t fix much, but he could give the man, and others like him, one less thing to worry about. One less thing to feel powerless over.

 

***

 

It had been a day since The Vlog That Blew His Phone Up. The number of missed calls he had had in the morning had been staggering, with even a sullen Charlie messaging him and asking if he was alive. He'd revelled in sending a kissy faced captioned "YOU CAREEEE". Now he was feeling far more rested, the last vlog having been edited by Jamal, and Daisy being _slightly_ better. She was currently sitting in the living room with her building blocks while Eggsy leafed through YouTube looking for something to cook her.

 

As though gifted with psychic powers, Roxy pinged in his inbox and he found a YouTube link, with a quick text, "My fav youtube chef made a vid for picky bbs. Probs useful."

 

He clicked it open to see the YouTuber Eggsy had come to call Chef Hart-throb (get it, Heart, Hart) on his phone. The title made him stare in wonder.

 

**10 MINUTE MEALS FOR THE SINGLE PARENT OF A FUSSY TODDLER**

 

"Alright, so I understand this is a very specific title, and the recipe is open to all. It's simply a well-known fact that a single parent in possession of a young child, needs time to keep that child alive, earn a living and maintain bodily functions, without the luxury of a partner to hand the child over to when time gets tight. So, let's get meals out of the way without fobbing them. I have your breakfast, lunch and dinner right here, annotations on the side skip to the latter meal in question, listen carefully. Breakfast."

 

Eggsy rushed to grab whatever it was that Harry was mentioning, thanking his stars that he had bananas and flour in his house. Daisy ended up in her kid seat sitting and staring at him while babbling instructions as he rushed about the room to the instructions of Harry Hart, occasionally pausing the video to catch up on making tiny bite-sized banana pancakes.

 

Just as he was finishing up with laying the banana pancakes down for a light dusting of sugar, Hart had moved onto lunch. He was describing lightly grilled carrots and the the thought struck Eggsy that Daisy might despise those, as she'd begun rejecting vegetables in all forms recently.

 

"I promise you, there is a vegetable out there that your child will like, and we'll find it together." Harry's voice came over the speaker, as though in direct response to his doubt, and he literally couldn't stop the sigh of relief and awe from whooshing out of his body. Hart was a fucking life saver, it felt as though he was standing in the room coaxing Eggsy clumsily through cooking.

 

"Now. Tomorrow, you'll need chicken breasts, whole-wheat bread and any sweet vegetable you feel may be appropriate. Need a suggestion? Baby carrots or baby corn, tiny, easy to prepare and really not as disastrous in taste or nutrients as you would think. I'm not sure how long this series will continue, but I'm thinking 20 sets of each meal will keep it diverse enough for something to suit your fussy child. Till next time, don’t fuck up."

 

He closed the YouTube app and turned to Daisy.

 

"Alright, my flower. Moment of truth."

 

She ate one and a half little pancakes before pausing to lob one at Eggsy’s head. He nearly cried as she polished the rest off.

 

God bless Harry Freaking Hart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been gone a while, but to be quite honest, my life has been rather hell. I've got the next three chapters drafted out, though, in a fit of optimism, so I hope to finish this youtube series before July. If I end up taking longer, just know that I will finish it. Because this has been in my head for some time, and there's no way I'll leave it hanging without the damned meet cute that I want to see happening.
> 
> Also, I don't know kids recipe stuff that well, all my cousins and neice/nephews eat like vacuums, just ripped it from this website, and while I am aware it is for babies, my cousins love these and they're like 3-6: http://www.kidspot.com.au/kitchen/recipes/baby-banana-pancakes-1730


	4. Chapter 4

Eggsy was getting the hang of this. 10 Videos in, and he had three interchangeable alternatives for every meal for Daisy. He’d managed to finish all his online quizzes, revise them, and retake them a second time for revision, and for the first time in a while, he felt like he was actually on the road towards mastery of the subject he was studying. Jamal had made good on his promise to edit the vlogs, getting the hang of it almost immediately till the point that he understood every clip Eggsy wanted and could splice a video together in 15 minutes. His payment was food, which was sometimes just experimental or rejected Daisy-food, and once it was a random ‘adult dinner’ that Harry had thrown into the series.

 

“You need an adult meal. Take the toddler dinner that worked best this week, whip it up again, now we’re going to feed you something other than your child’s scraps. Invite a friend over, have a conversation with an adult. Maintain your sanity, and your nutrition.”

 

Eggsy was amazed at how well Harry seemed to understand the plight of a single parent; he’d just made a joke about his own leftovers-diet the week before in a vlog. Harry seemed to understand all of this, despite not having a child, and Eggsy was grateful. So was Jamal, who had black pepper roast chicken, mashed potatoes and asparagus that night, and he’d seen Eggsy happier than he’d seen him in a while.

 

Eggsy had made it into a little ritual, watching Harry’s videos at the beginning of the day, even if he knew he was going with a different meal. Something about his warm but stern voice in the background calmed Eggsy and made his hands steady. Sometimes he’d even make jokes, incredibly witty jokes that bordered on morbid, that made Eggsy laugh uncontrollably. It had even ended up in a vlog once, Eggsy talking into the camera with Daisy in the background, babbling at his phone, a tiny Harry dashing across the touch screen just out of her grasp.

 

Just generally, with the help of a good tutorial every day, kitchen-time had become almost therapeutic, and Jamal’s help every night had helped him reach a point where he had time for his mind to actually take a breath every once in a while, stretch its borders and broaden its creative spectrum…and it manifested itself in some ways he had never expected.

 

He had started song writing.

 

At first, he’d thought it was sort of poetry to vent any emotions he had to paper, but it was too simplistic for that and yet structured. He couldn’t get that free-flow that poetry had, but he noticed something…it had a beat. He was one of those idiots who always sang impromptu lyrics on his mood or situation with a melody from other songs, so really the next step was obvious; he started taking his words and singing them aloud to random melodies that came to mind. Suddenly, he had a song on his hands, and only Daisy had heard it (she was particularly supportive of his project, clapping whenever he sang to her).

 

That got him thinking, one night as he was writing away, Jamal next to him setting a vlog up for render at the kitchen table while listening to something or other on his headphones.

 

 “Jamal.”

 

He kept nodding to the beat of whatever it was he was listening to, lips moving from time to time with the lyrics.

 

“JAMAL.”

 

He peeked up from his laptop, tugging an earbud out. “Yeah?”

 

“I was thinking of recording a song for the music channel. I keep doing covers, but I was thinking of trying an original, do one first and see how it floats. I have the gear for recording and stuff, but…I’m not very good at sound editing and I don’t have any musical background, not like you…think you’re ready for pay-per-project?”

 

Jamal looked surprised, before his entire face crumpled in concentration. Eggsy could practically see numbers, dates and images whizzing around his head at top speeds.

 

“So you’ll do the writing and melodies, I’ve got the instruments for recording, if we get the basics down, test the thematic sounds, I could throw together some music sheets so we can put a layout down…we can start recording on Monday, I’d say that would take a day or two, probably would need to re-record a few bits since it’s our first time and we won’t know for sure what would fit best till its meshed….got that written test on Wednesday, but then I’m relatively free. Think you can get the final lyrics and melody done by tonight?”

 

“Honestly, I’ve had it. Been waiting on you.”

 

“Then what’re we waiting for? Lay it on me.”

 

“God, I love you.” Eggsy stated with a grin and stood up to get his lyric sheet.

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve got to love me, I’m your producer now.”

 

Eggsy just _had_ to double-back and kiss him on the cheek for that, despite Jamal’s cries of protest and over-exaggerated scrubbing of his face after. He just _had_ to.

 

 

* * *

  

 

Harry wasn’t quite sure when this had become a habit of his, watching Eggsy’s vlogs daily. He took inspiration from the young man’s vlogs, beyond a doubt, as he wouldn’t be able to make videos to help single parents without the insight of one. His manager was _euphoric_ over the new series, saying it was bringing in even more offers as it proved his ‘range’ in the kitchen.

 

That didn’t explain away how giddy Harry felt when he saw one of his own videos in the background of a vlog, though. Merlin said it was simply healthy obsession, when he called Harry out on his weird guilty addiction of watching Eggsy’s vlogs.

 

He’d gotten defensive when the man had said he was obsessed, of course, but Merlin had just looked him dead in the eye over his pint and said:

 

“You search his name on YouTube to watch his newest uploads instead of subscribing to his channel for alerts, like a _sane human being_. It’s like he’s a porn you keep going to but are too scared to bookmark out of shame. Stop treating his vlogs like a dirty secret, grow a pair and admit you like watching that young man and his adorable family being perfectly imperfect. Hell, you may even just like _him._ And don’t you dare think I don’t know the kid food series was made for him.”

 

He’d wanted to storm out ( _stride_ _out indignantly_ ) of the pub, really, but the game was still on and he had money on Liverpool. So he’d sulked, naturally, and had gotten shitfaced, also naturally. In retrospect, after a shattering defeat for Liverpool, Harry should have held it together a little better when Merlin smugly asked for his 20 pound.

 

He’d shoved the money into his hand before pulling up his phone and disappearing into YouTube land, his ONLY FRIEND now that Merlin had betrayed him. Merlin didn’t take the snub for what it was and ushered drunk-Harry into the front seat of his car before getting behind the wheel with a chuckle.

 

“You going to ignore me, then? Little-old Merlin the chauffer? Because you lost a bet? Or is it because of your dirty little YouTube secret?” Merlin asked as they went along. In lieu of actually retorting, harry typed ‘Eggsy’ (Eggst really, but YouTube had his debauched back) and subscribed in front of Merlin’s eyes. “It’s NOT a dirty secret.” He muttered under his breath and watched the vlog angrily.

 

Or he _tried_ to watch it angrily. You couldn’t actually be angry when Eggsy popped up on a screen, smiling with his god damned dimples saying “Hey guys!” so cheerfully, Daisy on his hip. Harry was now grimacing at his phone in an attempt to keep his scowl on straight.

 

“God, you’re in love.” Merlin chuckled, which just encouraged Harry to retreat deeper into his cocoon of Eggsy&Daisy, sinking into his car seat and enjoying the vlog. Eggsy was talking about his lovely day at the park, in fact it was a park near where Harry lived. Somehow, knowing that these vlogs were uploaded a day late, but took place in the very city he lived in, made Harry feel oceans apart from Eggsy.

 

“And thanks so much for the support on my song, guys. I mean…I expected you all to be supportive, of course, I’ve got the best following on planet Earth, but the encouragement you guys give me every day is just…yes, yes, I promise to write more. Definitely.” Eggsy gushed, his eyes following Daisy’s escapades just offscreen. It took Harry a moment to suss through his haze that Eggsy must have written an original.

 

As a not-quite-fan of modern music, Harry rarely wandered to Eggsy’s music channel. His voice was heavenly of course, but the requests he got for covers just rankled Harry sometimes. Thumbing down to the description bar, Harry clicked onto the link to the music channel and went to the most recent uploads.

 

He didn’t bother checking the name, he wouldn’t have recognised the title if it were a cover anyways, and just let the video play. It showed split screens of Eggsy, the largest box being his main vocals, and the smaller boxes showing him recording the backup, and the moment all the little Eggsy’s opened their mouths and sang, Harry was stunned.

 

 _[I've been watching you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6BY1cfcZFxk)_  
 _[ For some time](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6BY1cfcZFxk)_  
 _[ Can't stop staring](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6BY1cfcZFxk)_  
 _[ At those oceans eyes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6BY1cfcZFxk)_  


For a moment, Harry wasn’t sure if this was a song from Eggsy’s perspective, or if he was Killing Harry Softly with his song. Like his fucking angel voice wasn’t enough, now he had to be omniscient as well. He felt chastised.

 

 _Burning cities_  
And  _napalm skies_  
_Fifteen flares inside your_ _ocean eyes_  
_Those ocean eyes_  


Fifteen. Eggsy was fifteen when Daisy was born. Bloody hell, Harry’s insides were going to leak out of him, they’d melted into goo.

 

 _No fair_  
_You really know how to make me cry_  
 _When you give me those ocean eyes_  
 _I'm scared_  
 _I've never fallen from quite this high_  
 _Falling into your ocean eyes_  
 _Those ocean eyes_

  
_I've been walking through_  
_A world gone blind_  
_Can't stop thinking of your diamond mind_  
 _Careful creature_  
 _Made friends with time_  
 _He left her lonely with a diamond mind_  
 _And those ocean eyes_

 

As the music faded, Eggsy came back on screen and began explaining how his memory of the first time he’d held Daisy had led to this song. Harry hardly heard any of it, letting his phone drop into his lap as he covered his face with his hand. He could hardly hear Merlin’s exclamations of concern, and he was right next to him!

 

Harry rubbed his fingers over his eyes, which were _still_ watering and he just _couldn’t stop them._ It was aggravating and frustrating and his chest hurt, but it didn’t really, and what the hell was this feeling?

 

“Harry, mate, you’re gonna have to answer me or I’m pulling over. Are you alright?” 

 

 

 

 

“…No fair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ocean Eyes was sung by Billie Eilish, and I believe I saw on Genius.com that it was written by her brother. [Here's the original video,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=viimfQi_pUw) it's really awesome. I think the male version is just a deepened version of Billie’s vocals, if I’m mistaken please tell me. I can’t find the name of the male singer, so I came to this conclusion.
> 
> Also, I'm really touched by the response I got from the note on the previous chapter, I put it there sort of to vent/explain myself but I guess I didn't really think people read the notes, and if they did, I didn't think I'd get comments on it! So thanks so much, it was really encouraging reading the comments :D The worst of it is over, I think, and I was (am) dealing with some things that affected basically everything in my life (alas, including fic writing) but I've gotten more of a handle on it now. I guess that's really all we can do, isn't it?
> 
> Also, ten cheers for how Eggsy doesn't realise that the reason the videos match his life needs so perfectly is because they are literally tailored to his life.
> 
> Also, another three cheers for Jamal and his beautiful soul.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: making up for lost time massive post update take one!

The title sequence of the vlog ran, ‘Vlog 409, Tell Everybody I’m On My Way!’ (Eggsy tried to use song titles or lyrics in all his vlog titles and he’d done well so far).

Suddenly, he popped into view, looking bedraggled and wide-eyed. Clear symptoms of an overly caffeinated Eggsy. “Alright potato heads! We’re about to board the plane! I’m so bloody excited I don’t know what to do with myself,” he announced loudly, camera far too close to his face, till Roxy popped into view.

  
“You can take Dais of my hands before our travel documents spill on the floor, thanks,” she announced, handing an unconcerned toddler to an equally-so Eggsy.

“Daisy, we’re going to California! How exciting is that?” 

She didn’t seem too excited, but Eggsy hardly noticed as he addressed the camera once more.

“We’re in for a long flight, but we are prepared. We’ve got toys, we’ve got games, and we’ve got pillows and Disney movies. Catch you lot on the other side.”

 

***

  
VidCon was a blur of motion and excitement, Eggsy wasn’t entirely sure where all his energy to cope had come from. It was one exciting aspect to the next, signings, meet and greets, interviews. Roxy and Jamal had been with him to take turns keeping Daisy occupied, and also support him when he needed it, and he was suddenly struck with the notion that this is what it felt like to grow up with siblings.

  
He had been vlogging every day while he was there and had even started a ‘CelebCam’ where he’d find a YouTube celebrity he’d always want to meet, get them in frame selfie style and tell them what he loved most about them. The first day, he had caught Jenna Marbles and Julien Solomita by surprise, as well as Tyler Oakley and Markiplier. 

The second day, he’d caught Superwoman in his sights and the first words out of her mouth were “Oh my god, am I in your CelebCam?!” before she promptly geeked out. It had to be the moment Eggsy first felt that he was properly popular, it had felt like an out-of-body experience.

He and Lilly had gushed and talked to each other before Lilly kidnapped Daisy for a small segment in her own vlog, some sort of mix between flower power and girl power.

He had planned on ending that second day vlog with meet-and-greet footage but had somehow returned to the hotel room to a groaning Roxy in the bedroom, heralding the beginning of new footage material.

Jamal was chuckling in the footage when the camera turned back on.

“Me and Jamal are going shopping, time to see the California night!............For like, 3 minutes as we pop over to the Seven-E,” Eggsy announced.

Roxy’s groan off-screen before the camera flipped to her lying on the bed like a star fish. “How did I miscalculate so badly? I have a regular period too, it isn’t even early, my math is just shite! I’m too irresponsible for ovaries.”

“Happens to the best of us!” Eggsy consoled with a grin.

“Yeah, I’ve gone practically decades without realising I’ve missed mine.” Jamal added from beside Eggsy, earning them both a flying pillow as a send-off.

On the way down to the corner Seven-11, Eggsy took a moment to explain to his viewers that knowing a loved ones’ preferences for menstrual products was not a bad thing in the least.

“Do you even know how much women love that? When you know exactly what brand and type to get them, without them telling? The moment they need help, you’re just there with precisely what they need? You’re a hero, mate. Or a villain, if you dare to buy tampons for a pad-user.” He joked as he grabbed a kotex box from the shelf with a shit-eating grin.

“Oh, CelebCam! CelebCam!” Jamal’s hushed voice interrupted him from off camera, indicating to the neighbouring isle.

Eggsy quickly rushed to the edge of the shelf, Tampax emblazoned behind his head, while he waited to pounce on his unsuspecting prey. He heard mumblings about orange juice and soft footsteps before he jumped out and called out “CelebCam!” excitedly.

That was, before he saw a wide-eyed Harry Hart in his viewfinder.

Then he promptly said “Oh.”

Before dropping his vlogging camera.

The resounding clatter on the linoleum floor was shameful.

Before he knew it he and Harry were both rushing to pick it up, both (bizarrely) apologising profusely.

  
“I’m so sorry!”

“Its fine, you just surprised me a little.”

“I surprised myself! I don’t even know what I’m on about.”

“Guys!” Merlin interrupted, holding two bottles of orange juice up.

“Pulp or no pulp?”

 

***

 

Harry had no clue how this had happened. One moment he was debating American-brand orange juice with Merlin and the next he was jump-scared by Eggsy Unwin before somehow ending up sitting at the sidewalk with said Eggsy at his side.

He hadn’t known quite how Merlin had orchestrated this, facilitating proper introductions between them, insisting Eggsy stay and chat before bowing out himself not 30 seconds later, Eggsy’s friend Jamal taking his cue and leaving as well with the parting words of “Roxy” followed by a shrug.

So that left Eggsy and himself.

Alone.

Sitting on a sidewalk.

Awkward and speechless and GOD he was wearing trainers and jeans. Could this not have happened on VidCon grounds when he was dressed to impress, instead of looking like a middle aged man who was worried about his instep?

His thoughts were interrupted as Eggsy cleared his throat.

“So…you…er…I haven’t seen you around VidCon, so I didn’t know you were here, actually.”

“Yes, Merlin and I have been a bit sequestered. We spent the first day visiting a publication house with my manager…”

“You’re coming up with a book?! That’s great! What’s it going to be about?”

“We were discussing just that, though it seems they really liked my single parents with fussy kids’ food series and were hoping to do a more calendar-based theme, with some holiday menus thrown in.”

Eggsy’s eyes widened excitedly, his joy palpable. It made Harry feel far too warm inside.

“That’s amazing, Harry! I’m definitely getting one as soon as it comes out. Though…” Eggsy looked a little sheepish, “I hope this doesn’t make you leave YouTube.”

Harry found himself instantly rejecting the idea which, truth be told, he had never thought until now.

“I could never. I started this because I wanted to share my cooking with those who were willing to learn, freely. I intend to do so, so long as I can. I hope you don’t stop singing on YouTube as well, after you’ve gotten famous.” 

Eggsy’s full-bellied laugh was both enlightening and discouraging at the same time. Enlightening, because Harry now knew for a fact that it was a beautiful sound he was very capable of getting addicted to. Discouraging, because it stemmed from Eggsy’s absolute disbelief that he could sing professionally.

“Come on now, you’ve got an amazing voice. You’ll get signed before you know it. You were on Ellen!”

“I was on Ellen for being a goof, not for singing.”

“Well then, when she has you back, it’ll be after your first studio album.” Harry insisted, nudging Eggsy’s shoulder with his own.

“Thanks.” Eggsy responded sheepishly.

Somehow they had moved on from talking about their channels to talking about Daisy, and their lives as a whole. Apparently Eggsy watched him at least once a day, and suddenly Harry’s strict daily schedule which had been such a pain at times, seem worth it.

Eggsy was surprised to find that Harry wasn’t even a chef, he simply enjoyed cooking. He’d actually been in banking before going full-time on YouTube, a truth he’d nearly withheld because of how utterly boring that was.

Apparently his own distaste showed on his face, because Eggsy reminded him with a grin that he was about to graduate with a Bachelors in Business Management himself.

They hadn’t realised it had gotten so late till Roxy had apologetically called on the phone informing Eggsy that Daisy had woken up suddenly and was inconsolable, likely waking up in a new place without Eggsy had given her a fright.

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea it was this late! And you have a panel tomorrow as well.” Eggsy rambled as he gathered his phone and vlogging camera, looking around him to ensure nothing had fallen out of his pockets as they sat there.

“It’s fine, Eggsy. It’s been lovely talking to you,” Harry moved to shake Eggsy’s hand instinctively before second guessing. Would that give too much of a formal vibe? Because that wasn’t what he was aiming for. He wasn’t prepared to proclaim any intentions, but god damn him if he sabotaged himself early in the game by looking ridiculous.

Luckily, Eggsy was distracted by remembering his vlogging. “I didn’t finish the CelebCam…do you mind if I…” he indicated at his camera sheepishly.

“Lets.”

“Ehem…hey guys! So-heheh-CelebCam! Again! Because I dropped my camera like a numpty. Here’s Harry Hart, YouTube chef and life saver, as Daisy’s balanced diet can attest. I’d just like you to know that I love your series on quick food for fussy kids, I don’t know what I would have done with myself if you hadn’t made it.”

“You’re very welcome, Eggsy. And while we’re on the subject, I’m an avid fan of your singing voice. While I’m not quite into your genre choices, I really liked your original songs. I hope to see more wonderful music from you in the future.”

“Thanks,” Eggsy blushed and shuffled a little before waving at the camera.

“That’s all for today folks! See you tomorrow at VidCon vlog number three!” and the video cut out. 


	6. Chapter 6

Eggsy was, to a certain extent, happy.

He was happy, mixed with a little disappointment, mixed with anticipation.

Because he had met Harry and Harry was an absolute swoon-worthy gentleman and Eggsy _wanted._

But he was disappointed, because they hadn’t traded numbers and Eggsy was truly scared that this may be the last time they spoke.

Mixed in was anticipation, though as he reminded himself that ;

1) They lived in the same city,

2) They still had social media open for use and

3) While Eggsy was a self-depreciating idiot on good days, he wasn’t blind. He was at least 60% certain that Harry had checked him out a couple times.

Alright, so he had been at 40% percent when he had woken up, but all the eruption of fangirling in his comment section had placed a little more confidence in his heart.

Honestly, it wasn’t just a ship, an entire armada had launched in the night under the banner of Hartwin (Some had suggested Harsy, but somehow Hartwin had seemed right)

His remaining 40% doubt was more from the hesitance he had sensed in Harry than anything else, whether it was to openly flirt with him or something else entirely.

Regardless, hope sprang eternal.

He was happily trouncing about on the third day on a merch hunt, his conversation with Harry in the back of his mind and the source of some of his spontaneous grins that day.

Daisy bouncing beside him, all his meet-and-greets wrapped up, when Jamal ran up to him waving a pamphlet.

“It’s now, Eggsy! Come on, it’s starting now, Hall 3.” This was odd, since he’d relieved both Jamal and Roxy of Daisy-duty so they could scrounge their own haul to be brought back across the pond.

“What’s starting?” Eggsy asked, even as he picked up the pace to follow, taking Daisy’s hand as he did so.

“The lifestyle session! Got to see Harry in the flesh, idnit?”

Eggsy’s steps faltered slightly. “Harry Hart?”

“No, Harry Potter. Of course Harry Hart, c’mon mate!”

And really, what could Eggsy say to that? He jogged onward to Hall 3, Jamal leading the way and Daisy skipping at his side.

 

***

 

Harry was man enough to admit that he was more than a little nervous. He had all but obliterated the programme in his hand trying to release his pent up energy. He was used to talking to a camera, or lecturing a small crowd of onlookers (Merlin and James as his witnesses).

It didn’t help that he’d spent all of the morning stressing over how he hadn’t gotten Eggsy’s number (you can DM him, Harry, for god’s sake! Stop _sulking_!)

“When does it start, again?”

“Like I said not 30 seconds ago, it starts in 1 minute.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Check your programme again.”

“Harry….you’re going to do great, so don’t worry! You ooze charm like a frog oozes mucus.”

“….That is the most disgusting thing I have _ever-_ ”

“Also, I gave my programme to a little bird.”

“A what?”

“A messenger pigeon, if you will.”

“Merlin, what on earth are you-”

His cue came up. He shared a panicked look with Merlin who just gave him a pat on the shoulder, before stepping onto the stage to thunderous applause, mic in hand.

“Thank you all for being here today!” he greeted, to a fresh chorus of screams and swoons. Yes, he decided, he could do this. He could do anything to be honest, and they’d probably forgive him for it. The thought made him feel less like buckling, his cool remained.

“This is exciting. How many of you are first timers at VidCon? Lovely, you’re the same you and I.” More cheering and some whistles to boot. “Without further ado, allow me to introduce the rest of our panel for today.”

 

***

 

 

“Considering my main rival for views is the highly impersonalised Tasty channel, I’m willing to settle for second place.” Harry quipped in response to a question, earning a chuckle from Eggsy and a squirm from Daisy, who turned on Eggsy’s lap to stare at the man on the distant stage. She had been perking up throughout the panel, but seemed to be especially excitable suddenly, probably recognising him from his videos.

A girl went up to the mic to pose her question.

“So, um…I’ve got a question. Um…about….something…that…it’s bizarre? Maybe?” She stammered through. Harry nodded encouragingly. “Uhmm…so you started your series on kid food on youtube, and it was…it was very specific? Like, aimed at single parents with fussy kids. And…ok this, this sounds neurotic. This is just a theory. But like, the timelines from the vlogs and…” She interrupted herself to backpedal. Eggsy sat forward on his seat, instantly intrigued.

Harry seemed to take pity on her for a moment. He decided that honesty was the best policy, so it he’d come clean I he was called out.

“Alright, let me see if this is what you’re getting at. You believe you know who inspired the series thanks to timelines from vlogs juxtaposed with my series.”

“Yes.”

“Sandra, was it?”

“Uh y-yes.”

“Sandra, I try to be an honest and forthcoming person. So it seems only fair that I give credit where it is due, as far as inspiration goes. So, say the name and I’ll answer you with a truthful yes or no.”

The whispers in the hall were deafening, and Sandra waited for them to die down before mumbling:

 

“Eggsy?”

“Yes.”

 

The screams were _piercing_ and would undoubtedly hurt if Eggsy wasn’t grinning hard enough to make his own ears ache.

“Moving on!” Harry called out with a chuckle and a shake of the head.

“You just going to leave it at that?” Jamal whispered the challenge into Eggsy’s ear. God dammit, the showman in Eggsy was piqued.

Harry had made the series for him. Harry had created over a months’ worth of food options because Eggsy had been worried about Daisy. Hell, he’d definitely made that ‘adults break’ meal because of Eggsy. He listened to his music!

And there was a robust 60% chance that he had checked Eggsy out last night when they sat on the curb talking about the bores of banking and the wonders of life.

Before Eggsy could chicken out, he stood up and approached the mic, girls waiting in line parting without complaint in high pitched and fast paced whispers, whipping out their phones as they did.

He reached the mic and grabbed it, belatedly realising that Daisy was still in his arms.

“I have a question.” He announced. Harry looked bewildered before he looked incredibly flummoxed, squirming rather self-consciously in his seat for a moment and straightening his jacket a little (presentable-ness matters, alright?!). That encouraged Eggsy a little as he resettled Daisy in his arm.

“Hello, Eggsy.” Harry greeted nervously.

“Hello, Harry.” Eggsy responded, Daisy waving and repeating the greeting like a good girl, causing a refrain of ‘awwww’ to spread through the crowd.

“Actually…” Eggsy stuttered, courage leaving him for a moment as every eye turned to him. He swallowed down his fear and nodded to himself before proceeding.

“Actually, scratch that. I know the answer to my question, so instead I have an offer.”

Eggsy gave Jamal one last look for encouragement, from where he stood filming diligently with Egg­sy’s camera (how he had gotten it, Eggsy did not know).

He took a deep breath and began.

**_[“We're talking away, and I don't know what I’m to say. I’ll say it anyway. Today’s another day to find you shying away.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CSlznl5nQ_8) _ **

Eggsy had not quite expected the screams, but as they dissipated to hand clapping, keeping time for him (and encouraging Daisy darling to clap along) he felt encouraged.

 _ **“I’ll be coming for your love, okay?”**_ Harry looked red in the face, burying himself in his hand though his shy grin could not be hidden.

Eggsy launched into the chorus with a new confidence, _**“Take on me!”**_ with some of those in the crowd joining in. He thought they’d have a cuteness overload as Daisy, recognising the song, added her own ‘Take on me’, aiming for the mic like a pro.

Harry had given up hiding behind his hand and was just watching with a shit eating grin.

_**“So needless to say, I’m odds and ends. I'll be stumbling away, slowly learning that life is OK."** _

_**"Say after me!”**_ A surprising number of people took up the line with him, shouting _**“It's no better to be safe than sorry!”**_

As Eggsy launched into the second chorus, Harry sprung from his seat and went to the side of the stage, peering behind the curtain and communicating with someone behind there. A hand from backstage passed him something, and Harry turned once more to Eggsy.

Except he was walking and he wasn’t stopping, even as he reached the edge of the stage. He could have walked to the staircase, but he decided to jump it, approaching Eggsy as he wrapped up the last enthusiastic chorus “ ** _I’ll be gone in a day or twoooo!_**....Hey, Harry.”

“Hello, Eggsy.” Harry smiled as he pulled up the object that was passed to him, his handphone, and Eggsy promptly laughed. “Might I have your number, Eggsy?” he asked.

Eggsy couldn’t stop grinning as he tapped his number into Harry’s contacts, while Harry talked to Daisy who was beginning to show a recollection of his face and voice from the videos she watched every morning.

“So, dinner?” Eggsy asked, passing the phone back.

Harry nodded. "I'm cooking."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CSlznl5nQ_8) is how I imagined Eggsy's voice and the ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE DAISY would sound like. Take On Me (a-ha) by FREE DAD VIDEOS. Leave them a like!


	7. EPILOGUE BECAUSE I TOOK TOO DAMN LONG TO FINISH THE SERIES PLEASE ACCEPT MY APPEASEMENT SACRIFICE

“-so once I’m done with that, I’ll probably record it properly, maybe. I’m not entirely sure.” Eggsy trailed in from the sound room into the kitchen, Harry giving the large laptop a smile before returning to his cooking, realising that Eggsy must be streaming.

Eggsy sat down at the dinner table and set the laptop down in a way that it was aimed at him, and over his shoulder you could see Harry bustling about.

“Remember, this is just the draft. I expect a more…polished version when…well, when the occasion calls for it.” Eggsy stated, pulling out his phone to play and simple melody Jamal had made for him.

“Do you want me to move out of the way?” Harry asked curiously, noting that he was in the shot.

“No, it’s fine.” Eggsy said quickly, maybe even a little too quickly. He winked at the camera before pressing play on his phone. “Another Eggsy original titled [Come Away With Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lbjZPFBD6JU).”

_**“Come away with me in the night, come away with me and I will write you a song…”** _

Harry smiled gently and started to sway to the Jazzy tune Eggsy was singing. It was rare that Eggsy sang Jazz. In fact, it was Harry’s favourite genre.

_**“Come away with me on a bus, come away where they can't tempt us, with their lies. And I want to walk with you on a cloudy day, in fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high.”** _

That sounded a lot like their holiday last year with the Mortons.

They had given Eggsy and Harry a day on their own to wander the Spanish plains that they were in, and he’d lost count of the number of times Eggsy had tried to incorporate “the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain” into their conversations. He’d lost track of how many times he’d laughed at the pun, regardless.

_**“So won't you try to come…Come away with me and we'll kiss on a mountaintop, come away with me and I'll never stop loving you.”** _

Harry paused his dicing and put the knife down, getting a strange feeling telling him to turn around. And fair enough, Eggsy had just stood up and turned towards him.

Harry wasn’t sure if he had remembered to breathe, anticipation suddenly tightening his chest.

Eggsy sang on and approached Harry.

_**“And I want to wake up with the rain falling on a tin roof…while I'm safe there in your arms.”** _

Harry leaned back on the island, unsure if this was actually what he thought it was.

His hands were shaky as they rubbed at his mouth stifling whatever question (maybe whimper) he was too scared to ask, worried that he was reading this wrong. Worried that maybe Eggsy _wasn’t…_ trying to… about to…

_**“So all I ask is for you………..to come away with me in the night.”** _

Eggsy crooned, finally reaching Harry and reaching into his pocket. Harry knew what it was, of course he did, grinning and pressing his forehead to Eggsy’s even before he felt the band pressed into his palm.

 

_**“Come away with me.”** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely adore [Norah Jones](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lbjZPFBD6JU) and Come Away With Me is one of my fav songs of hers. 
> 
> Anyways, Happy New Year Everyone! I wrote these chapters in like...3 hours of inspiration. I'm so glad I did, finally, wrap this up! please mention any errors if there are any, I don't have a beta so sometimes things slip between the cracks.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't bloody well know how this came about, but it did, and you will accept it. Also, if you don't know what [80s dancing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wiIXGR8NgKo) looks like, here you go. Enjoy :P


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